


Addiction

by Ellepige



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Feels, M/M, Painful Sex, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Sad, slight body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 15:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10516506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellepige/pseuds/Ellepige
Summary: They meet each other again, because they don't know how to quit.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kinkyarchive](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kinkyarchive).



> Hello!
> 
> This work was inspired by [@kinkyarkhive's](https://kinkyarkhive.tumblr.com/) beautiful work featuring the two old soldiers and [long-haired Reaper](https://kinkyarkhive.tumblr.com/post/159000627678/i-shut-up-when-you-stop-sneaking-into-my-bed-like). The picture isn't as sad as my story got, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and had to get it out of my system. So yeah. It happened somehow.

Sometimes, he doesn't even remember how he wound up at the door of that well-known, dingy appartment. The corridor leads to a few fake-wooden doors, most of them are warped and discolored from years of neglect, there is trash littered in the corners, the walls are moist and foxed. He can't smell the place. It's not that he lost his sense of smell, but his own decay masks the faint notes of moss and mold.  
This is no home. It's a hideout, a place to lie in wait until something happens. Reaper raises one gloved hand, lets the sharp talons scratch over the closest wall, then he keeps walking, steps too heavy and mechanical to go unnoticed. He can be quiet. Gabriel Reyes had been good at that and he can still remember what he has to do, which muscles he has to use to move this heavy body in a way that muffles his sounds.

He just doesn't care enough to even try.

As usual, he finds the door ajar and as he pulls it open, a warm shimmer of light cuts into the shadows of the murky hall. He imagines that it smells of instant coffee and gun oil, just so he doesn't have to try and dig Jack's very own scent out of his memories. It's too painful and he isn't here for this pain. This isn't penitence, it's just something he does to feed a hunger the souls of his victims can't quench.  
He leaves his cloak on a chair close to the door, next to Jack's visor. His mask clatters as he drops it beside his other belongings, the rest of his clothes, his weapons, his worn dog tags follow suit, until he stands naked in the flickering light of the candle. Reaper watches his own hands, claws instead of fingers, fuliginous skin that slowly gives way to ashen colored flesh. Reyes' scars are still there, prominent and pale against the remainder of his tan. Reaper barely notices his sepulchral appearance, his attention is captured by Jack, sitting upright in his bed, staring at him.

Not at him.  
Jack is blind. They won't see each other ever again. And, as far as he is concerned, this is a good thing. He briefly wonders why the soldier still bothers to light a candle, but maybe he just enjoys the faint warmth of the flame. It is nothing for him to care about.  
"Didn't expect you back this early," Jack finally manages. The sheets around his body are twisted, as if he'd been moving in his sleep. Maybe a nightmare. Was it more nightmarish than what now made its way through the small room? It was not the first time they played this game, but every time can well be the last. How long until one of them snaps? Would Jack finally put an end to Reaper's perverted existence? Or would he die, fall victim to the monster's greed?  
They both didn't care anymore and this was why their little agreement worked out. There were other things that were more frightful than death itself. And they were falling apart anyways.

Despite being aware of the absurdity of this act, Reaper keeps eye contact as he moves closer, even as he lifts the blanket and slides under the thin fabric. For a moment, it feels comfortable, like coming home, Jack's warm skin against his thighs, his gun-calloused hands on his back. Hot, humid breath brushing his ear. One hand snakes higher, takes hold of his hair and pulls, Reaper grunts and digs his claws into Jack's shoulders while his former lover's lips touch his throat, pressing against his adam's apple and then giving way to teeth that bite down not so gently.  
"Your friends at Talon really don't know how to treat you, hm? You keep coming here for me to fuck you real good... Slutty little bitch." Morrison trails off as Reaper bucks his hips, pressing the old soldier's cock against his own stomach. The Mercenary shifts slightly, tring to get comfortable while still being able to rub his own growing erection against Jack's half-hard dick.  
"Y'know, it's a pity fuck, really," he hisses back, grinning as he sees Morrison bite his lips at the words. "The world has forgotten about you, old man."  
"But you have not, have you? Can't get over how good it feels..." He used to love Jack's husky, almost breathless laughter. It's a faint memory now, but it's enough to make Reaper feel a sudden rush of excitement. He pushes against the other soldier's chest until he falls back. There is blood on the almost white skin and he leans down to lick at one of the cut he's made, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Jack.

"Hm... It's so convenient. Easy." He laughs, silences himself as he notices how inhuman it sounds, more like the grumbling of an animal. "All I have to do is get in here and use you as I see fit. You were always so damn eager to please others, Morrison."  
Jacks hands roam his body, even after all this time, after all that happened, he still seems to remember his most sensitive spots, his fingertips leaving trails of liquid heat on his skin. He can't help it, he buries his nose in the crook of Jacks neck and takes a deep breath. More memories bleed into his consciousness, Jack, his beautiful, beloved, perfect Jack, the way he smiles, how his hands feel on his shoulders after a long day in the field, how his hair shines in the sunlight of Gibraltar. Blue eyes that glint with mirth. Cheeks so pale they easily get sunburnt, no matter where they are. Jack's mouth, his slim, but soft lips half parted as they lie in bed, his name on Jack's lips.

His name on Jack's lips as the explosives blow up, ripping the HQ to shreds along with their dreams of a peaceful future.

His body locks up, just for a moment, but his former lover notices anyways. One hand comes down on his neck, almost gently rubbing before fingers comb through his tangled hair.  
The moment fades as quickly as it has begun, Reaper sits up again, wills a smirk on his face even though he knows that Morrison won't see it. It's in the past. It's stuff for Gabriel Reyes to worry about and that man is dead. He fights the urge to beg Jack to say his name, busies himself with grinding against the familiar body beneath him before he reaches behind and starts to prepare himself. It's awkward with his claws, so he has to push his knuckle into himself, but as degrading and odd as it feels, it's also good.  
Jack's chuckle makes it all the sweeter. Reaper looks down between his legs only to see that the other man has started stroking himself, setting a lazy pace that was as much for his own enjoyment as it was to tease the mercenary in his lap. He bites back a moan and rushes his preparations. It hurts, but he couldn't care less.

"Look at you," Morrison jeers and it would be ironic if Reaper wasn't sure that Jack was able to tell exactly how he looks right now. "Don't waste my time, slut. We both know you're loose enough already." He can't really argue with that, doesn't want to if he's perfectly honest and so Reaper moves forward and guides Jack's cock to his entrance. Their fingers brush past each other for a moment, and it feels weird, too intimate, too close. They both pull back a bit too hastily. It hurts to take the soldier's cock, with spit as the only form of lubrication, but the stretching sensation is good. Intoxicating.  
Reaper pushes down further, grits his teeth to bite back a whimper. He feels full already, but there is more to go and Jack helps him through it by grabbing his hips and pushing him down. With a gasp he finally notices that their bodies press together snugly and Reaper blinks, tries to accommodate to the feeling as Jack pinches his thigh.

"Get going. 's that all the guys at Talon taught you, hm? To sit still and let them use your greedy hole? You better work for what I give you." He briefly wonders if there was something like jealousy in Jacks voice or if it is just what he wants to hear in his crude words, but he lifts himself off of the other man's dick and starts moving. His sharp nails pierce Jack's chest over and over again, but he doesn't seem to mind, he just bucks up against Reaper, whilst keeping his hips in a bruising grip. He can't speak, it's too intense, painful but oh so good, but Jack keeps on talking.  
"Fuck, you feel so good. You want me to cum inside, don't you? I'll give you a nice treat, just keep going, just like that..."

"Shut up, Morrison!" The heel of his hand pushes against the soldier's throat and the old man wheezes, but his grin doesn't fade as he finally decides to touch Reaper's cock. It's no soft touch, but it fits the roughness of this all and after only a few more erratic thrusts, he cums over his lover's hand, Jacks name on his lips. He barely notices Morrison finishing as well, instead he just collapses atop of the warm body and takes a few greedy breaths. His heart pounds in his chest and Jack's arms around him feel comforting as he shivers at the unusual feeling.  
He gets up as soon as he trusts his legs to hold him again. There is silence between them as he gets dressed, not caring about the sweat and cum that slowly gets tacky on his skin. He is gone within a few heartbeats, feeling dirty and empty and satisfied.

Gabriel doesn't know how to quit.


End file.
